


You Survive

by thatgirlthatwrites



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlthatwrites/pseuds/thatgirlthatwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back at the Ark camp, Monty Green and Nathan Miller have a short discussion about Mount Weather with potentially lasting effects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Survive

Sunlight had become foreign again, after so long in the mountain. Referring to it as just "the mountain" made it easier than calling it Mount Weather. Saying the whole name, the real name that was given to it by its residents, only reminded the survivors that their hell had been the home to many. Some lost friends, lovers, and allies...even those that felt no connection to anyone in the mountain were conflicted and traumatized by the events that had taken place.

After arriving back at camp, many of the delinquents had been taken through the medical facilities to do basic physicals. Some were more in need of help than others. Those that were cleared were guided to a place to fill up on food and hydrate themselves, and then led back to the living quarters. Those whose parents made it down to the ground were brought one direction, and those that were now alone were brought toward smaller rooms, but at least they were their own. All the while, Monty remained toward the back of the group, constantly pulling his sweater tighter around himself and keeping an eye more on the back of Jasper's head than on the Ark members leading them around the new layout. When Jasper was shown where he would be staying, Monty shuffled forward to try to catch a glimpse of his best friend, but the door slammed shut before he could. On the other side came the sound of something light and plastic falling to the ground. Goggles.

Walking became a bit more difficult after that, or at least walking in a straight line. It was difficult for Monty to focus on any one thing, to be aware of his current surroundings. He found himself watching the ground where he was about to step, as if the body of someone from the mountain was about to come underfoot. No, no, there was never a body. It was all in his head, he knew that, but it did not stop. It took three tries for the guide to get Monty's attention and show him where he would be living now as he got settled back into normal life. What was normal anymore? When had his life been normal since he was arrested? First he was stuffed into a cell, then he crash landed on the ground, fought for his life, only to be sent back into a prison. Was that to be the cycle for the rest of his life? Freedom, confinement, freedom, confinement? At least, until now, Jasper had been by his side.

The room left a lot to be desired, Monty could admit that even in his current state. One look at the mattress told him it could stand to be about two inches thicker, and the blankets would be too thin. The walls were thin, too. Thin enough for him to already hear the delinquents roomed on either side of him beginning to break down into sobs. They were all so strong, forged into the people that they were now. No longer children, but hardly the adults they ever wanted to be. They all walked miles back to the camp, made it through all the stations they were required to go to, and now, once all alone, they were beginning to give in entirely to their own minds and memories. Monty was on the verge of it, he could feel it, see a body covered in raw skin now twitching on his mattress.

His movements were jerky, as though his body wanted to move, but his mind wanted him to stay and watch the hallucination. As if he hadn't felt for those people enough watching them die, as though he had not choked so much on his own guilt that he remained silent the whole walk back to the place he was now expected to call home. He did not bother to shut the door, or to try to stay quiet as his feet slapped against the ground on his sprinting journey through the corridors. The sweater came undone, starting to slip off his arms until he hurled himself through an open door to what appeared to be a public restroom. He just barely managed to get a grip on the sides of the sink before the sickness in his stomach came up. The violent retching left him breathless, with a sore throat and no relief to the uneasiness in his gut. He doubted there was any cure for that, or at least not one without a significant price.

Recovering his strength enough to stand up, Monty grabbed a towel to wipe at his mouth, and began running the sink and splashing water around to try to clean it out. A small wave of relief washed through him when the water went down the drain and he heard it rush through a tube. "At least they've got plumbing," he muttered dryly to himself. Using a few final splashes of water to rinse off his face, Monty did not even realize there was a mirror hanging above the sink until pulling the towel away from his face.

Monty was entirely aware that it was himself staring back at him, and perhaps that was what scared him most about seeing his own reflection. Just the day before he had seen himself in a mirror, back at the mountain. But a lot happened in a day. A lot happened in the minutes it took him to enable the radiation to seep into Level 5. He had a part in their deaths, and looking at himself now, he saw nothing but a man with more blood on his hands than he ever wanted. He used to be an avid pacifist, and even managed to avoid a great deal of physical fighting during the grounder attack. He could not bear the sight of someone suffering, and especially not dying, no matter who it was. Yet, here he was, alive at the expense of whole families.

"Oh."

The words were not uttered by Monty, but by another party that had entered the restroom while the young man was still in his trance-like state of reflection. Blinking a few times, Monty took in the sight of Miller standing in the doorway, wearing a guard's uniform. Were the delinquents being given job assignments already? Or had Nathan's father given him that to wear? Almost reflexively at this point, Monty found himself fixing his sweater and pulling it tighter around himself. There was no way for a draft to be felt, but somehow a coldness still seeped through straight to his bones.

"This is a public bathroom, right?" Monty asked as he turned around, to which Miller responded with a brisk nod. Monty knew Miller had no idea; he had been here as short a time as any of the other delinquents and was probably still having trouble finding his way from his room to the exit.

"I thought no one was in here," Miller admitted. "Needed a towel."

"I used the last one. Sorry."

Miller nodded a few times as if to acknowledge what Monty said, yet he did not move from where he was for at least ten seconds of strange silence between the two. Once he was gone, Monty turned again, this time folding his arms across the edges of the sink and leaning over to rest his forehead on them. Two seconds or two hours could have passed for all Monty felt like caring, but the sound of footsteps returning to the bathroom made him look up again to see Miller's reflection again. This time, he had taken a few more steps into the room, and even closed the door half-way.

"Need something else?" Monty asked, his tiredness evident in his voice.

"I'm not a very positive person," Miller began before pausing, seeming to consider what he wanted to say next.

"I've noticed." Anyone who listened to Miller was aware of his glass half-full perspective, but it was needed to help keep the overall perspective of the group realistic. He knew how to account for the worst, something Monty had to admire and like about him.

"Right. But, I know you did what you could. When we got locked up, I thought he were going to get our asses handed to us one by one. I knew I'd die. But I didn't."

"The whole population of Mount Weather did, though." Including Maya. After all she had done for them, she unwillingly made the ultimate sacrifice, and Monty never got to tell her his opinion of her had changed.

"You made the call you had to."

"Didn't have to," Monty sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "I could have lied to Clarke. I could have found a way to try to just convince Cage there was a radiation leak. I could have done something else."

Miller looked rather surprised, even a bit bewildered. "There was no time," he pointed out, as if this was a fact Monty had unconsciously overlooked. It was not.

"I know, but... we talk about sacrificing the few to save the many." He looked up into the mirror, eyes trained on the reflection of Miller. Even without actually facing him, he managed to look the other young man directly in the eye. "What happens when you sacrifice the many to save the few?"

There was not even a moment of hesitation, as though Miller had been thinking on this same thought for a long time. "You survive."

Monty spun suddenly, the quickness of his actions nearly throwing him off-balance. With slower, more determined movements, he folded his arms and nodded at Miller. With his hands balled into a fist under his arms, he started to walk toward the door that Miller now easily pushed fully open as he stepped to the side. His fingers were tapping against the side of his leg as if to exert some sort of nervous energy, but Monty did not pay much attention to it until he was just in the doorway and Miller spoke again.

"I didn't really need towels."

With a slight turn back, Monty put on an empty smile with just a hint of genuineness in his eyes as he nodded toward Miller. It was nothing against the other boy; in fact, he already found himself turning over the phrase uttered so quietly yet without any embarrassment. Miller wanted to check on him, to make sure he was okay, to try to convince him that the deaths were not his fault or wrong actions. Whether Monty believed Miller was something else entirely, but it was a start. Perhaps Monty could stop another delinquent in the hallway, ask how they were doing. He could enlist Harper to help him bring extra food to the people who found it difficult to leave their new rooms. Every now and then he could reassure people, remind them that after all they have been through, they are here now. Remind them that when life gets awful, sometimes you have to do things you never want to do. And he could tell them that a very smart man, a man that had watched his back and helped protect dozens, reminded Monty of the one thing that he kept doing throughout all the changes in his life. It was the one thing everyone who adapted to the good or the bad did in their lives.

_You survive._


End file.
